


Emotions in Motion

by Grinder1833



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Bottom Dean, Episode Related, Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Mark of Cain, Post-Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Season/Series 10, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinder1833/pseuds/Grinder1833
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean continue to work on their relationship while they take a break from hunting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotions in Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through S10E03 – Soul Survivor
> 
> Disclaimer - I don’t own these characters. They are property of “Supernatural," Warner Bros. Television and Kripke Enterprises.
> 
> This is a follow up to my fic “Signs of Life” but it’s not necessary to read it before you read this one. I wanted to fill some more of the gaps between “Soul Survivor” and “Paper Moon” as well as explore Dean’s POV. This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own.

Dean couldn't believe that Sam had gone through so much trouble getting the Impala back to her old self again—with his arm in a sling no less. The car was important to Sam to an extent, but Sam never really cared if she was covered in mud or if there were takeout wrappers on the floor. Shit like that was always Dean’s territory. Dean was touched that Sam wanted to clean her up for him. His brother did an awesome job too. Baby hadn’t been this shiny since they first moved into the bunker. Dean had found some premium car care supplies stashed away in the Men of Letters’ garage and wasted no time using on his girl, giving her some TLC. 

Sam often teased Dean about his unhealthy relationship with his car, which was laughable given their incestuous relationship. 

Or should he say once incestuous relationship?

Sam had already cleaned out the inside of the car, which meant he knew that Dean had been out there nailing almost anything wearing a skirt during his demonic stint. There were a lot of things Dean did while he was a demon that he wasn’t proud of. Fucking around on Sam was first on the list. It didn’t matter that their relationship had been put hold due to Dean allowing Sam to be possessed by an angel. As far as Dean was concerned, he still betrayed Sammy. 

Another Dean Winchester fuck up. Oh the list was long and continued to grow.

But Sam came after him, refused to give up on Dean even though Dean had left him a note telling Sam to let him go. Sam even admitted he lied when he’d told Dean that he’d let Dean die instead of using any method to save him. Granted, it took Dean actually dying for Sam to make his confession, but Dean will never forget Sam’s anguish as he drew his last breaths in Sam’s arms. 

“Got another one of those?” Dean motioned to the rag Sam had dropped onto the floor. Sam had been in the midst of waxing the Impala when Dean finally found him, startling his brother in the process. The garage was the last place he thought he’d find Sam.

“Yeah…sure. You wanna help?” He tilted his head in typical Sammy fashion.

Dean shrugged. “Can’t let Baby think I don’t love her no more.” 

Sam picked up the rag from the floor. Then he grabbed another one and tossed it to Dean. “That will never happen.”

Dean hoped Sam also realized that was the case as far as he was concerned as well. Even in the shittiest of times, Dean never stopped loving or wanting Sam. They truly were soulmates. 

Together they finished waxing the Impala with Dean telling Sam that he missed a spot a couple of times. And Sam, to his credit, didn’t give him the bitch face. Progress.

“You’ve got to be dead on your feet,” Dean announced once Baby was back to being all sleek and gleaming. 

“I guess I should probably go to bed.”

“You guess?” Dean shook his head and grabbed Sam’s elbow. He steered him out of the garage. “I need to get you to bed before you keel over, because I’m not carrying you to your room no matter how romantic you think it might be.”

“'M not fallin’ over,” Sam weakly protested, but allowed Dean to escort him through the bunker toward his bedroom.

“Whatever you say, Sasquatch.”

“Hmph.”

This was different than the last time they were in these corridors together. Dean chasing Sam, intent on killing him. He’d come so close when his knife was pressed to Sam’s throat. 

_Fuck._ Dean swallowed and willed the tears to stay away. He needed to remain strong, show Sammy that he wasn’t going to fall apart on him. 

“Okay, we need to get you out of that thing so you can get your shirt off,” Dean announced once they were inside Sam’s room.

“I was just gonna—”

Dean shook his head. “You’re not gonna sleep in your clothes.” Dean stepped closer, studying the sling Sam wore, which was definitely more intricate then some of the makeshift shit they put together over the years. “This thing is insane.”

“I can—” Sam reached to unhook it, but Dean batted his hand away.

“I got it.” Dean removed the sling with the utmost care. “Can you get your shirt off?”

“Yeah.” Sam was already easing out of it, so Dean turned away. He kept busy by searching for a pair of sweats for his brother to sleep in.

“You should probably just go without a shirt.” 

Sam nodded as he kicked off his boots. “T-shirts are kinda tricky right now.”

Dean tossed the sleep pants he found onto the bed, stepping into Sam’s personal space as Sam slid the sling on again. “We’ll try to stay away from T-shirts until you’re back in fighting shape.” Dean fastened the sling and made sure that it was on just right. Then he trailed his hands down Sam’s body until they rested on his belt buckle. “But pants are another story.”

“Dean.” Sam’s breath hitched.

Dean looked up at Sam through his long lashes. “Just wanna help you get more comfortable.”

Sam licked his lips, nodding. “Yeah…okay.” 

“’Kay.” Dean made quick work of Sam’s jeans. Sam did his part to help. He wiggled out of them while Dean turned to grab the sleep pants off the mattress. “Here.” He thrust them into Sam’s hands before he gave into the urge to peel Sam’s black boxer briefs from his body with his teeth.

“Thanks.”

Dean turned to leave, but Sam grabbed his arm before he could get too far. “Hey…uh…stay?” Sam flashed him his patented puppy dog eyes. “I think I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me.”

“Sure, you big girl,” Dean teased in order to avoid the mother of all chick flick moments. He’d lost hope he could get back what he once had with Sam. This was a small step in the right direction.

“Can you get the light?” 

Dean walked over and turned off the light before stripping down to his boxer briefs. He slid underneath the covers next to Sam, laid on his back and stayed very still. The ball was in Sam’s court as far as he was concerned. Dean didn’t want to make any wrong moves or assumptions even though Sam had kissed him in garage earlier. 

_You and me._

Yeah…that was one hell of a kiss. He enjoyed kissing Sam—fucking loved it, actually. Couldn’t wait for Sam to kiss him again—needed Sam to kiss him again. 

Sam draped his arm around Dean and pulled him to his chest. “C’mere you scaredy cat.”

“Just given’ you space.” Dean rested his cheek against Sam’s warm skin. He closed his eyes, savoring Sam’s strong heartbeat.

“Don’t need space,” Sam murmured drowsily. He carded his fingers through Dean’s hair that desperately needed to be cut as far as Dean was concerned. “You know I’m a cuddler.”

“Mmmm.” Dean was too exhausted to think of a witty comeback. Sleep was a much better option.

So that’s what he did.

 

********

 

Dean wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up. Sam’s arm was still around him and their legs tangled together. Dean’s morning wood snug against Sam’s hip. _Fuck._ Dean fought the urge to rut up against Sam until he got himself off, which was a challenge since his body was screaming _wantmineneedmine._ He carefully extracted himself from the human octopus and crept out of the room. A quick stop in his bedroom was made so he could beat off and grab a robe.

Dean was fucking starving. He padded into the kitchen to see what he could scrounge up for breakfast. Sam needed to be fed as soon as he woke up. 

“Dammit, Sam. Would it have killed you to have gone grocery shopping before saving my ass?” Dean sighed. The refrigerator was nearly empty. In the past he’s improvised a meal or two, but ketchup, mustard, pickles could hardly constitute breakfast. There was the leftover pie, which Dean was tempted to finish off, but then Sam wouldn’t have anything to eat. And Sam really needed to eat. He was taking heroin chic to a whole new level.

Dean showered, dressed, and drove to his favorite diner in town to pick up some food. Thankfully, they had plenty of coffee at the bunker so Dean brewed a fresh pot when he returned. He was debating checking on Sam when his brother ambled into the kitchen where Dean unpacked the Styrofoam containers.

“Breakfast?” Sam looked as if he were still half-asleep.

It was well past breakfast time, even lunch for that matter which was good since they both obviously needed sleep. “Breakfast, lunch, brunch whatever floats your boat.” 

“Thanks for venturing out to forage for food.” Sam stumbled over to the cupboard and got out a couple of plates while Dean opened the containers from the diner. 

“Looks like you got enough for a small army.” Sam placed the plates along with the silverware on the table.

“Well…you are a growing boy, Sammy.” Dean plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs and waggled his eyebrows at Sam.

Sam sat down across from him. “Right now I’m a starving boy.”

They piled their plates high with food. Dean chose pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and toast. Sam had an omelet, hash browns, toast and a couple pieces of bacon much to Dean’s delight. Maybe there was hope for his brother after all. 

Sam swallowed a mouthful of omelet. “How are you feeling?” 

“Good.” 

“Nothing I need to know about?”

“You don’t have to hide the sharp objects and hardware from me if that’s what you’re asking.” Dean’s sarcasm got the best of him. Sam meant well. He got it. Really he did. But if Sam was going to keep asking him if he was okay every few hours then Sam might need to hide those things after all. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sam said without missing a beat. “We should probably lay low for a while though.”

“Cas basically said the same thing.”

“Do you agree?”

Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. Not hunting for a little while sounded good. Spending some quality time with Sam sounded even better. “Couldn’t hurt, right?” 

Sam smiled. “Wow. I didn’t think you’d agree so easily.” 

“Well…I do have some conditions.” Dean folded his hands on the table and leaned forward.

Sam’s smiled quickly faded. “Oh.” 

“I don’t want to be coped up here. I want to be behind the wheel of my baby out on the road.” Dean watched as Sam tried to school his emotions, but failing miserably. There was a bit of panic in his brother’s eyes like he thought Dean would take off without him or maybe didn’t want him along for the ride. “But I won’t leave unless you’re with me. I don’t want to do this vacation thing without you.”

“Vacation?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You wanna take a vacation?” 

“Isn’t that how the normal folks relax?”

“We’re far from normal,” Sam chuckled.

“Touché.” 

“Where did you have in mind for this vacation? Vegas? Atlantic City?” 

“Nah. I thought we could go someplace quiet and just…I dunno…drink beer and…” Dean gestured lavishly, purposely leaving his thought unfinished, hoping Sam would fill in the blank properly. He wanted to get back to being _them_.

Sam chewed his lip and nodded. “How about Washington? There was a place that we went with Dad a long time ago. It had an incredible lake outside of town. I think it was called Silver Lake—big, crystal clear, pretty quiet if I remember correctly.” Sam’s eyes met his as if challenging him to remember.

And did he ever. 

Dean couldn’t stop the slight grin that crept on his lips. “The summer before your senior year of high school. Dad left us for about a month while he hunted a skinwalker in Oregon. Yeah…I remember that lake.” _And the kiss that happened while we’d been swimming in the lake. Our first kiss._

Dean wondered if this was Sam’s way of saying he wanted to start over without actually coming out and saying it, which was more of a Dean move. God forbid they actually come out and say what they really wanted. Beating around the bush, reading between the lines, and avoiding saying what was in your heart was the Winchester way. 

Sam held his gaze. “Best summer of my life.”

“Mine too.” It was the truth. That one kiss had led to hand jobs and more kissing and…

“It should’ve been in my greatest hits.” Sam speared a forkful of hash browns.

“You mean when we were trippin’ the light fantastic in heaven?” Dean asked. He hadn’t thought about their adventure down the fucked up, black asphalt road in quite some time. Sam might have been revealed as his soulmate, but their time upstairs had left Dean feeling defeated and alone. Sam’s moments made it apparent that he was happier away from Dean even though they were destined to share their heaven, which was all kinds of fucked up.

“Yeah, my happiest memories weren’t the ones you saw.”

“I don’t remember you denying those were good times for you.” 

Sam shifted in his chair. “Well…they were…” Dean frowned. He didn’t want to relive their adventure in heaven. But Sam either didn’t realize Dean’s unease or didn’t give a shit, because he pressed on. “But not the best memories, not anywhere near the best. Those times were with you—the lake, my eighteenth birthday, being with you in between hunts. Looking back, I think Zachariah fucked with our heaven to try to drive a wedge in between us so we’d say yes to Lucifer and Michael.”

Dean doesn’t know why he hadn’t realized it then, because it was pretty fucking obvious now that was exactly what had happened. Sad thing was it kinda worked. Dean was so pissed at Sam when they were brought back that he tossed the amulet in the trash. Cas couldn’t find God with it and Sam’s portion of their heaven hadn’t included him, which had all but gutted Dean. 

Throwing away the amulet was one of Dean’s biggest mistakes. The necklace was the best gift he’d ever gotten from Sam, although he’s never told him this. Dean loved that thing. Never _willingly_ took it off. Ever. Now it was long gone thanks to his wounded pride and lack of faith. Almost five years later he still reached for it now and then and missed it when his fingers came up empty.

“You’re probably right. Heaven’s supposed to be awesome and that shit we saw wasn’t awesome.” Dean popped the last piece of bacon into his mouth.

“So did you want to find that lake again?” Sam hopefully asked. “We could try to rent one of the cabins on it or get a motel room nearby.”

“Yeah…let’s go there and rent a cabin on the lake.”

“When did you want to leave?”

“Now?”

Sam chuckled. “You really are anxious to get out of here.” Dean just shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Okay. I can be packed and ready to go in ten minutes.”

“Dude, you need a shower first. You are not going to stink up my car.” 

Sam stood up. “Fine. Give me twenty then.” 

A half hour later they were back on the road. 

********

 

Sam didn’t bitch when Dean put in his Billy Squier cassette. He even sang along with him to _In the Dark_. Dean was truly in his element—his favorite tunes filling the car with Sammy was by his side and miles of open road between them and Washington. 

_You and me._

They stopped in Kimball, Nebraska to find some food and a motel for the night. Their late dinner consisted of steaks at the Big Mamou Steakhouse, which was actually a step up from their usual fare. Sam had insisted they needed to start off their vacation right. 

“Lucky number seven.” Dean slid into the car with the key to their motel room.

“Good. We’re due for some luck.”

Dean moved the Impala so that she was parked in front of their room. Sam grabbed his duffle from the backseat and shot a glare at Dean when he tried to help him. Dean took the not so subtle hint and got his stuff. He unlocked the room, flipped on the lights, and dropped his duffle on the floor. Dean glanced at Sam to see his reaction to their room—or more precisely, the bed in their room, which was a king instead of two queens.

Sam’s face was a myriad of emotions. He’d open his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. Sam let go of his duffle bag, which hit the floor with a loud thud.

Dean thought Sam would say something. Sam could never keep his mouth shut. Always had to put his two cents in about the more insignificant things like stopping at Gas ‘N Sip over 7/11. Stupid shit like that. Well…until this moment when Sam decided to keep his yap shut, which was fucking unnerving. 

Dean felt the need to speak because someone had to at this point. “I just thought—” 

Dean never finished the sentence, because Sam was all over him, pushing him up against the wall with his good hand—his very strong hand. Sam mashed his lips against Dean’s. Dean definitely didn’t see this coming, not the he was complaining. No fucking way. 

“Dean,” Sam breathed against his mouth, grinding his crotch against Dean’s. Sam was hard. 

Closing his eyes, Dean moaned, his head resting against the wall. Sam licked his way into Dean’s mouth, clutching Dean’s shoulder and rocking against him. Dean felt his dick get on board with the idea. He kissed Sam back forcefully, snaking his fingers into Sam’s hair. 

“Need you…need you,” Sam panted in between kisses. “Need you so bad.”

Dean was a few grinds away from coming. And he really didn’t want to cream his jeans like a teenager. “Bed. Move to the bed.” 

Nodding, Sam pulled away from him. He kicked off his shoes and then sprawled out with his back on top of the mattress. Dean stripped down to his boxer briefs while Sam watched him with hooded eyes. Sam hadn’t looked at him with such desire in a long time. Dean thought he’d never see the heat in Sam's eyes again.

“Dean,” Sam practically whined as he struggled to unbutton his shirt one-handed.

“I got you, Sammy.” Dean sunk down onto the bed and crawled up it toward Sam. He took over unbuttoning Sam’s shirt and pushed it open so that he could see Sam’s chest. Dean could practically count Sam’s ribs, but even rail thin he was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

Dean peppered Sam’s chest with kisses. He paused when he reached Sam’s anti-possession tattoo. Thankfully, Sam didn’t waste any time getting it redone. Dean had expected him to pitch a bitch about it since it was Dean’s fault he needed to be re-inked, but Sam had just returned to the bunker the day after Gadreel had been expelled with groceries and a new tattoo in the same place as it had been before. Dean expected Sam to have it put in a different place as a fuck you to him. 

Dean traced the pentagram with his tongue which elicited a low, throaty moan from Sam. “Love you,” Dean murmured ever so softly, too low for Sam to hear, as he placed kiss after kiss on the tattoo. 

Blindly he fumbled with Sam’s belt buckle. He worked to get it undone along with Sam's jeans. The front of Sam’s boxers were damp with precome leaking from his dick. Dean latched onto Sam’s nipple. He sucked it while he pushed Sam’s underwear down his thighs. 

“Dean. _Please_ …Dean.” He tugged on Dean’s hair. “ _Please_ …”

Dean peered up at him with spit-slick lips. “You wanna fuck me?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. There’s some—” 

“I have stuff in my bag.” Dean untangled himself from Sam and padded over to his duffle where he’d packed lube and condoms—just in case. He could feel Sam’s eyes burning into him—most likely honing in on his ass. Well…he’d really give Sammy something to look at. He slowly peeled off his boxer briefs and then kicked them aside. Dean leaned over and fished through his clothes in search of the supplies, making sure that Sam got an eyeful. “Yahtzee!” Dean triumphantly held up the condom and bottle of lube.

“Great, now get your ass over here so I can fuck it already!”

“Ohhh…I love when you get all bossy, Sammy.” Dean sauntered over to the bed extra slowly. 

Sam rolled his eyes and thrusted out his hand. “Gimme.” 

Dean tossed Sam the lube, which he caught with his cat-like reflexes. With a devilish grin, Dean straddled Sam’s waist. Sam flipped the top open and squirted an ample amount on his fingers, eager to get the show on the road.

“Just take it slow,” Dean said quietly. He locked eyes with Sam. He lifted his hips up just enough for Sam to slide his hand underneath his ass. Sam circled a slick finger around Dean's hole. “Fuck.” Dean shuddered.

“Missed this,” Sam murmured. He carefully sunk his index finger inside Dean’s tight hole.

Dean’s breathing quickened as Sam slowly fingered him. Sam wasn’t the only one who missed this. It had been too long since Dean had been filled and stretched. Dean’s body happily hummed in response. Sam rubbed Dean’s prostate. _Fuck yeah._ Dean wantonly rocked against the second finger Sam added. 

“ _Really_ missed this.” Sam offered him a lazy smile. 

“Why don’t you _really_ fuck me?” Dean reached for the condom next to them on the mattress. Sam removed his fingers from Dean’s ass and snatched the foil packet from Dean’s hand and ripped it open with his teeth. _Damn that was hot._

Sam rolled the condom onto his dick. “You gonna ride me, Dean?” Sam asked, his voice, low and sexy as he rubbed Dean’s thigh.

“Yeah, I’m gonna ride you.” Dean grasped Sam’s cock and kept it still while he ever-so-slowly sunk down onto it. “Jesus…fuck…you mutant.” Having a dick as big as Sam’s should be illegal. Dean was no slouch in that department, but Sam was definitely in his own league with his monster cock.

“You love it.” 

Sam was right, but Dean just moaned as he took the last of it inside him. They started slow. Dean grinding down on Sam's dick at a leisurely pace. Their eyes open and laser focused on each other. Dean bit his lip as Sam lifted his hips off the mattress, forcing himself deeper. 

“Yes,” Dean closed his eyes and titled his head back. He was so full—Sam’s dick hit the perfect spot. Their rhythm increased. Sweat pooled on his chest. The bedsprings squeaked. 

Sam wrapped his hand around Dean’s dick and stroked it until he came all over Sam’s hand and his chest. Dean's ass clenched around Sam’s cock. Their once perfect pace became erratic as Sam neared his climax. 

“Dean.” Sam squeezed his jizz coated hand around Dean’s hip as he came.

Dean fought the urge to collapse on top of Sam, because he was a come soaked mess. Gingerly he lifted off Sam, his ass was sore but satisfied. “Gonna get a wash cloth to clean us up,” Dean said when Sam reached out for him. “Be right back, Sammy.” 

A few minutes later, Dean returned with a warm, wet washcloth that he used to clean them. He removed Sam’s shirt, careful not to jostle his injured arm. Once the come and sweat had been wiped away, Dean tossed the washcloth onto the floor and then slid next to Sam who was burrowed underneath the blankets. 

It’s probably been a year since Dean felt so fucked out and satisfied. Sam’s the only one who could do that to him. Dean yawned, snuggling a little closer to Sam. Okay…so Sam wasn’t the only one who liked to cuddle, but he’d never admit it. Sam caressed Dean’s arm.

 _Mmmm._ Dean closed his eyes. He would sleep well tonight.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was soft and a bit hesitant. 

So much for sleep. Dean wished Sam would just fall asleep like most guys after sex instead of insisting on sharing and caring. Sam often used Dean’s blissed-out state to pry secrets out of him. He was ruthless that way.

“Aren’t you the least bit tired?” Dean mumbled against Sam’s chest.

“Do you remember everything from when you were… _you know_?” 

“A demon?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty much…yeah I guess so.” Dean wasn’t sure where Sam was going with this, but it was safe to guess that he wasn’t going to like it.

Sam swallowed. “You fucked around a lot, hun?”

“Sammy…”

“I know I have no right to ask.” 

Dean sighed. “Just ask.” 

“Did you only fuck women?” 

Whoa…talk about coming from left field. Dean sat up, wide awake. “Damn…you really know how to kill the mood.” 

“Did you?” 

“Yeah…just chicks, Sammy.” Dean had only fucked three guys in his entire life. Sam was the first, there was a guy he found in a bar after Sam left for Stanford, and then there was Benny in Purgatory, which had been a bit complicated to say the least. 

“You didn’t fuck, Crowley?” Sam blurted out.

Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. Demon Dean had briefly thought of fucking Crowley, not that he’d ever admit it to Sam. The idea of the supposed King of Hell bending over for him intrigued the demon, who wanted to show Crowley that he was the one who was really in charge. Something stopped or distracted him before he could do anything. Thank whoever. 

“No! I can’t believe you’re even asking this,” Dean bit out.

“Well, you fucked Benny while you were in Purgatory.” 

“And you were fucking Amelia. Didn’t realize we were keeping score.” Dean was beginning to regret not getting a room with two beds, because he was ready to just sleep on the floor at this point. Damn Sam and his stupid ass questions. 

Sam must have sensed Dean was ready to bail on him. He tentatively touched Dean’s arm and grasped his fingers around Dean's biceps to hold him in place. “We’re not. Sorry.” Sam's voice softened. “I just…I hate the thought of you being with anyone else. And I know I was the one who put a stop to things so I don’t have any right to be jealous. But—”

“Happy to know that you cared,” Dean cut him off, not bothering to try to hide his sarcasm. 

Sam stroked Dean’s arm, fingers dragging down to the back of Dean’s hand. He laced his fingers through Dean’s and squeezed. “I never stopped caring or loving you, dumbass. _Never._ ” Sam seemed sincere enough—all soft eyes and dimples. _Damn those dimples._ “Come on, Dean.” Sam coaxed him to lie back down, which he did because he can never say no to Sammy.

Dean rested his head against Sam’s chest. “You still left.” It was barely a whisper, but Sam still heard it.

“Stanford?”

“Yeah.” 

“Why do you think I left?” Sam carded his fingers through Dean’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. Dean closed his eyes, savoring the touch, but remained silent to force Sam to continue. “You think it was your fault, don’t you? God, Dean…” Sam sighed. “I left because I was so hopelessly in love with you and it scared the shit out of me. And I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way or was just going along with me because it was what I wanted.”

Dean lifted his head from Sam’s chest and glanced up at him. “You never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do. Those feelings were mutual— _are mutual_. I tried to be without you when you were at Stanford or when I thought you were in Hell, but Cassie and Lisa weren’t you. I couldn’t love them like I love you.” Dean rolled onto his back and let his head fall onto the pillow. “Must be the whole soulmate thing.” 

“You heard Ash?” 

“Yup.”

“But you didn’t really believe it?” 

“How could I? Nothing I saw in heaven supported it.” 

“Fair enough.” Sam rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at Dean. “Do you believe it now?” Sam almost seemed afraid to hear Dean’s answer.

Dean ghosted his fingers along Sam’s cheek. Sam leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and almost purring. “Yeah, I do, Sammy.” 

“Me too. You’ve always been my one great love, jerk.” 

“I am pretty awesome.” Dean yawned. “Are we about done with the caring and sharing? I’m fucking beat.” 

Sam leaned over and kissed Dean. “Get some sleep, Dean.” 

 

******** 

 

Two days later they arrived in Durham, Washington. The Shady Rest Retreat at Silver Lake to be exact, which was the same place their dad had rented back in 2000. This cabin only had one bedroom with a queen size bed, like the two bedroom their dad had rented. Dean didn’t waste any time pushing Sam down onto the bed and fucking him into the mattress. 

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy and relaxed. He felt as if Sam and he were on their honeymoon, although he’d never admit this to Sam. It would probably make Sam swoon and bring him flowers or some other romantic shit like that. 

Their time at Silver Lake wasn’t all sunshine and lollipops though. Sam and he had their arguments. Dean lost his cool when Sam would try to mother hen him too much. Sam got irritated when Dean would leave his wet towels on the bathroom floor or harmlessly flirt with the other guests at the lake. They wouldn’t be them if they didn’t get on each other’s nerves. And Dean lived to give Sammy a hard time, because he was so cute when he went into bitch mode. 

They rarely left the cabin. Dean cooked a lot of their meals. Sometimes Sam helped, other times he sat in the living room curled up with a book that had nothing to do with hunting. Most afternoons were spent swimming in the lake. When it wasn’t hot enough for a dip, they’d sit on the shore of the lake with a cooler full of beer between them. One thing never changed. They were always together. And Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Better?” Sam dragged his thumb over the red, angry skin on Dean’s forearm. 

They lay together in bed, naked and sweaty, a tangle of limbs and sheets with rays of sunshine filtering through the worn curtains. Dean secretly savored the burn in his ass from the intense fucking Sam had given him a little while ago.

The Mark of Cain was still on Dean’s arm—a slightly annoying itch at this point. Dean doesn’t scratch; he tried to forget that it was there. Instead, he focused on Sam, their new beginning, and living in the moment.

And the times when ignoring it didn’t work, Dean got Sam to fuck him— _hard_. Sam never questioned it, just gave him what he needed—like this afternoon when Dean had needed to _feel_. Now his body and mind were calm and sated once again. 

Dean wasn’t naïve enough to think Sam hasn't put all the pieces together yet. Dean also knew that it was only a matter of time before Sam pressed the issue. Until then, Dean was just going to enjoy their honeymoon phase.

“S’all good, Sammy,” Dean mumbled as he pulled Sam to his chest and buried his nose in Sam’s unruly hair. 

But they couldn’t hide forever. They’d need to get back on the road. 

Soon.


End file.
